After Louie

1

(SILENCE)

(SKATEBOARD ROLLING)

(MAN LAUGHS)

Wow.

Can't believe

you found these things.

- Were they in that drawer?

- MAN:
Yeah.

They should have been

in the drawer.

They were in the drawer

with the desk by the thing.

Yeah, like I said.

- But I didn't...

- MAN:
Show the camera.

This is that Christmas dinner

that I was telling you about.

Yeah. Yeah.

MAN:

They're walking the streets

as though we weren't living

through some sort

of a hideous nightmare.

Only you can hear people

screaming and dying

and crying for help.

No one else

seems to be noticing.

Only it's worse

than wartime,

because during a war,

the people are united

in a shared experience.

This war has not

united us.

It's divided us.

It separated

those of us with AIDS

and those of us who fight

for people with AIDS

from the rest of

the population.

Two and a half years ago I read a

"Life" magazine editorial on AIDS,

which said it's time to pay

attention to this disease now,

because it's beginning

to strike the rest of us.

It was as if I wasn't the one

holding the magazine in my hand.

So where do you get it,

and for how much money,

because it isn't

happening to them,

so they don't give a sh*t.

And they don't have their houses

burned down by bigots and morons.

They only watch it

on the news...

MAN:

William.

Oh.

You're still here.

How was your nap?

It was absolutely,

positively wonderful.

(CHUCKLES) Thank you

so much for asking.

Do me a favor,

Sam, would you?

I want you to put

that camera down

and help me

to the toilet.

I have to take

a sh*t right now.

(DOOR CREAKS)

I'm gonna head.

I left the money

in your sneakers.

You said three.

It's all I have.

Whatever.

Try and make sense

of this for me.

I don't know.

It's a puzzle.

I'm leaving you with a puzzle.

(CHUCKLES)

To my body:

someday my ship will come.

It's not finished yet.

What?

Too gay?

Too political?

Too AIDS-y?

So...

no new paintings.

Oh...

I'm just... I'm trying to get back

to doing something important again.

Isn't it a little bit

late in the game

to start trying

something new?

I mean, I get it.

You're getting older.

You feel the need

to reinvent yourself.

It's not that.

No one wants

to see this, Sam.

They want to see

your paintings.

Trust me.

Well, f*** you.

- Really?

- Yeah, really.

(MUSIC PLAYING)

Elijah rock,

shout, shout, shout

Elijah rock,

coming up, Lord

Elijah rock,

shout, shout, shout

Elijah rock,

coming up, Lord

- Isn't she divine?

- Mm-hmm.

- All right, this round is on me.

- Thanks, babe.

Glad you're out.

It's been too long.

Yeah, where the f***

is everybody else?

They're scruffing and

grinding and dick pics.

Oh, my!

All right.

A whiskey

for Sam there

and a cranberry soda

for my baby.

I'm on a cleanse.

Jesus Christ.

- Cheers, queers.

- Ooh, cheers.

Oh, shout, shout,

hallelujah

Coming up, Lord

So did you have a chance

to look through

those old slides

and photos for me yet?

Not yet.

Are you still working

on that William thing?

- Come on, Jeffrey.

- It's been like 20 years.

Yeah, I know

how long it's been.

All right, Sam.

We will find you

the photos.

Don't worry.

But like from

the old days, Jeffrey.

- Before he was sick.

- I'll look.

(PIANO MUSIC PLAYS)

(CHUCKLES)

Oh, my God.

Yeah, look at that.

Look at that.

Beautiful, isn't it?

Cover's beautiful.

I love this cover.

Jeffrey Ann Miller

741-7246.

I know his number.

Will get my AIDS and ACT UP!

archival materials

and slides and

photographs in a box,

labeled in my bedroom,

and first crack at my gay

AIDS and health books

in bookcases one and two.

And the woven wicker laundry

basket under the stairs.

Are you getting

all this, Sam?

WOMAN:
Isn't this all

a bit premature?

WILLIAM:
My impending

death is premature.

Now...

I want

a memorial service...

but please,

no eulogies.

Use the photo of me in my Saks

Fifth Avenue tweed jacket,

taken in 1978.

It's on a shelf

in the armoire.

And I want

a party afterward.

A Christmas party,

with a tree.

SAM:

Christmas party?

As you may know, Christmas

is my favorite holiday.

And as I most likely won't

be around for another one...

Christmas in July.

Or September.

Whenever my body decides

it's had enough.

Well, I looked awful.

Can I bum another one?

You sure are smoking a lot

for someone who doesn't smoke.

Don't tell Mark.

Oopsie.

Back in a minute.

WOMAN:

Maybe they're right.

Maybe who's right?

At the gallery. Why don't you

take a break from all this?

Take a vacation.

I don't need

a vacation, Mags.

I mean, what have I been doing

for the last 15, 20 years?

You certainly haven't

been hiring a cleaner.

SAM:

William was angry.

He was angry because nobody

was angry anymore, you know?

Before he died...

I mean, like,

before before...

we were a team.

You and William

and Jeffrey and me.

We were.

Why did we never do that?

Do what?

Give him

his Christmas party.

Oh...

I don't know.

He wanted a Christmas party

and we never gave it to him.

Okay, William did

all kind of crazy things.

He sent postcards

addressed to his own body.

Yeah, and I have every

single one of them down there.

Will you speak

to Jeffrey for me?

I mean, he says

he's okay with all of this,

but I don't think he is,

and Mateo pretends

like he wants to help,

but then he acts

like I'm Dr. Frankenstein.

- Mateo can be a little b*tch.

- Mm-hmm.

Jeffrey will

listen to you.

I'll talk to him.

Thanks, Mags.

I know I can always

count on you.

- You're the best.

- Mm!

- Shut up.

- (CHUCKLES)

Ain't got nobody

Nobody cares

for me

I'm so sad

and lonely, baby

Won't somebody

take a chance on me?

(PLAYS PIANO)

Ain't got nobody

Nobody cares for me

I'm so sad and lonely

Won't somebody

take a chance on me?

BOTH:

Nobody cares for me

Oh, Mags.

Whatcha readin'?

Sh*t.

You scared me.

Can I sit here?

If you want to.

So...

- what are you reading?

- Ah, that's just... nothing.

Oh.

Is it good?

He was a friend of mine,

the writer.

But he's dead now.

Well, that's no fun.

It was

a long time ago.

We all die eventually.

Memento mori.

Means "Remember death."

Or "Remember

you're gonna die."

So why do you have

such a morbid tattoo?

It's just a little reminder

that life is precious.

I got it after my father

died, about nine years ago.

My dad died,

I threw a f***ing party.

You didn't get along

with your dad?

Uh, that was...

that was a bad joke.

Oh.

But, no, we did not...

get along.

That's too bad.

What?

SAM:

I can't tell if you're real

or just a figment

of my imagination.

I've had a lot

to drink.

I'm pretty sure

I'm real.

(DOOR CREAKING)

Oh.

So what do you like?

What do you like?

Do you have a condom?

I only play safe.

- Me, too.

- Uh-huh.

Sorry that was so fast.

(CLEARS THROAT)

Don't worry.

Sure you'll be ready

to go again soon enough.

Did you come?

No.

There you go.

Thanks.

Want a beer?

Uh, maybe some water?

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